Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 465

Chapter 465: We Meet Again

Olivia’s POV

For a moment, I couldn’t move. I just stood there, staring, my heart slamming against my ribs as if it was trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

My parents.

The two people I thought I’d never see again.

My breath caught as my eyes roamed over them.

Mother looked... different somehow. Her face had more color than I remembered, and she’d gained a little weight—not too much, just enough to make her look healthy. Her eyes glistened when they met mine, filling with tears instantly.

But it was him who froze me to the core.

My father.

The man I’d mourned for years. The man I’d buried in my memories when I was fourteen.

He stood there alive, real, breathing—looking older, yes, but still every inch the father I remembered. His dark hair was streaked with silver now, his broad shoulders still proud, though I could see the weight of time in his eyes.

I couldn’t speak. My mouth opened, but no words came out. My body felt locked between shock, anger, and disbelief.

How?

How was this possible?

My father took a slow step forward, his gaze soft and full of guilt. "Olivia," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Hearing him say my name broke something inside me.

Tears filled my eyes, and before I could stop myself, I moved—one step, then another, then I was running.

Straight into my mother’s arms.

She caught me tightly, pulling me close, and I finally let go. The tears came hard and fast, burning my face.

"My baby," she sobbed against my hair. "Oh, Olivia, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry."

Her words shook me. Sorry? Sorry will never be enough.

When I finally pulled away, I turned to my father. "You..." I choked out. "You deceived me."

He gave a small, pained smile. "I’m so sorry."

My throat tightened. "You let me believe you were dead."

His expression faltered—regret flashed in his eyes. "It wasn’t by choice," he said quietly. "There were... things you didn’t know, things we couldn’t tell you. It was the only way to protect you."

I stared at him, stunned. "Protect me from what?"

He didn’t answer. His silence was enough to make my heart sink.

I shook my head, stepping back. "You don’t get to say that after all these years! You don’t get to show up now after everything and pretend you did this for me!"

My mother reached for me again, but I pulled away, trembling. "Do you have any idea what it was like? To think you were dead?" I said, glaring at my father, then turned to my mother. "And you? You knew all this time, and you never told me anything. You kept it away from me."

Her tears fell harder. "I’m sorry, sorry."

I wanted to hate them.

Truly, I did.

For months, I’d carried the pain of losing them—the anger, the emptiness, the sleepless nights wondering why they betrayed me the way they did.

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